Page 5 of Shut Up and Score
Because all I can feel is heat—low and simmering. Mywhole life has tilted, and something just shifted under my skin. Across the patio, Micah laughs again.
I don’t even realize I’m staring until he glances my way.
And smiles.
That smile—that easy, devil-may-care curve of his mouth—hits me like a body blow.
Except it’s not for me. He hasn’t seen me yet. Because if he had, that smile wouldn’t be on his face. Not after what I did.
The last time I saw Micah, I kissed him. Hard. Desperate. Wanting.
Then someone saw us, some dude from the team with his jaw half-dropped, and I panicked. Shoved Micah off and acted as though he’d cornered me. And he was forcing himself on me.
Told him to get fucked.
I watched the light drain out of his eyes as I acted as though I hadn’t just been devouring his mouth seconds earlier. That was two years ago. It was also the end of his college career as far as I had known. Because, of course, the guy who found us couldn’t leave it at that. No, he ran to the administrator, said Micah sexually assaulted me. Coach benched him, then he lost his scholarship. And it was my fault for not correcting them. Any of them.
I was a coward.
And now here he is—smiling at someone else, body relaxed, appearing as though he’s finally free of the wreckage I left behind.
My pulse spikes. Blood rushes south before I can stop it. Heat pools low in my stomach, tight and sharp, need straining behind the zipper of my jeans. Fuck, my body’s got no loyalty at all.
I shift on the chair, trying to breathe past it, but that’s when Jasmine leans forward, her voice syrupy and loud enough to drag me back.
“You’re really quiet all of a sudden,” she says, playful as she gets up from her chair and slips onto my lap without waiting for an invite. “Maybe we should go back to your dorm, I have time before English.”
Her fingers trail up the back of my neck, nails grazing skin as if she knows exactly how this scene looks from the outside. Perfect couple. Perfect pose. Perfect lie.
She wriggles on my thigh andfuck—my body twitches without permission. She mistakes my semi as caused by her. Of course she does.
Her voice drops to a purr. “Mmm, you like that idea, don’t you?”
I force a smile, teeth clenched, every muscle in my body locked and screamingno.
And that’s when it happens.
Micah turns again.
And this time he sees me.
Jasmine draped over my lap, arms around my neck, lips dangerously close to mine. Me looking as straight as ever.
The smile drops off his face, a scowl replacing it, and I do the only thing I can think of…I kiss Jasmine. I never said I wasn’t still a coward.
TWO
MICAH
I shouldn't have come back.
That’s the thought that keeps looping in my skull, no matter how many times I tell myself this is just a coffee. Just a date. Just a guy.
He’s sitting across from me in a crisp button-down, talking about his dog or his gym routine or his cousin’s wedding—the usual get-to-know-you shit. I nod when I’m supposed to. Smile, sip my drink, pretend this isn’t the same campus where everything turned to shit two years ago. And that I’ve willingly come back.
It’s going fine. Until it’s not. Until I glance toward the patio and see him.
Colton Taylor.
